<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Verdant Confession by miraworos</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652643">A Verdant Confession</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos/pseuds/miraworos'>miraworos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>BT Tower Telephone Group H [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Canon Compliant, Ends as it begins...in a garden, First Kiss, First Time, Love Confessions, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:20:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652643</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraworos/pseuds/miraworos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale wants to take their arrangement to the next level.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>BT Tower Telephone Group H [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937899</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Top Crowley Library</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Verdant Confession</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586595">An Idea Was Planted</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supergeek21/pseuds/Supergeek21">Supergeek21</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was written as part of the BT Tower Telephone event in which prompt fic or art was partially redacted, leaving the following person with just a hint at some of the elements of the piece that came before. This fic was inspired by SuperGeek21’s excellent fic (see Work Inspired By for the link). Thanks to Do It With Style Events for organizing this!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“What is this surprise, angel? You’ve been keyed up about it for days.”</p><p class="p1">Aziraphale rolled his eyes as he donned his coat and hat. “I have been nothing of the sort. I simply thought of it, that you might like it, and so we’re going.”</p><p class="p1">He considered bringing an umbrella—spring in Britain being as likely to rain as to not—but then decided against it. The weather would not dare thwart him today. He’d been waiting for the right time to propose they advance their…er…arrangement to the next level, and he’d determined the perfect place to do it. Now if he could only get Crowley there without spoiling everything.</p><p class="p1">“You know I hate surprises,” Crowley grumbled as he followed Aziraphale out of the bookshop and towards the Bentley.</p><p class="p1">“Not this one,” Aziraphale said as he settled into his accustomed seat. “Well, at least, not the destination.”</p><p class="p1">Crowley pulled into traffic, leaving Aziraphale’s stomach on the curb.</p><p class="p1">“I need to know the destination if I’m to drive us there, angel.”</p><p class="p1">“The Bentley knows the way,” Aziraphale said, gasping at a sudden swerve.</p><p class="p1">“Had a nice long chat, did you?”</p><p class="p1">“Quite.”</p><p class="p1">Crowley swerved again, this time for no discernible reason whatsoever.</p><p class="p1">Aziraphale barely survived the pout-laden ride to their destination, but survive he did. He brushed a grateful hand across the Bentley’s dash as he exited the vehicle, for it had indeed deposited them at the location Aziraphale had intended.</p><p class="p1">“The Royal Botanical Gardens? This is the surprise?”</p><p class="p1">“It’s the location for the surprise, yes.”</p><p class="p1">Crowley groaned loudly as he slammed the Bentley’s door. “Oh, come <em>on</em>, angel. Give us a hint.”</p><p class="p1">Aziraphale wiggled in anticipation. His stomach fluttered now for an entirely different reason than reckless propulsion.</p><p class="p1">“I want to show you something.”</p><p class="p1">An hour later, they’d wound their way to the part of the gardens Aziraphale wanted Crowley to see. The pink budsin the trees surrounding King William's Temple were as lovely as Aziraphale had hoped, blushing against the backdrop of the cornflower sky.</p><p class="p1">“Do you remember, Crowley?”</p><p class="p1">Crowley ambled toward the tree, fingering one of the delicate petals. “Cercis siliquastrum,” he said wistfully.</p><p class="p1">“I said then that I couldn’t. When you asked me to…” Aziraphale stuttered to a stop in his nervousness. “Well, anyway. It was the first time you asked.”</p><p class="p1">“The last time was the bandstand,” Crowley reminded him absently, without malice, though it made Aziraphale flinch.</p><p class="p1">“In any case, I did,” Aziraphale continued. “I betrayed Heaven. For you.”</p><p class="p1">“Not for me. For the world.”</p><p class="p1">Crowley turned from the tree to look at him, eyes hooded even behind his glasses. Aziraphale pulled the glasses off. He needed fewer shields, not more of them.</p><p class="p1">“For <em>you</em>,” he argued. “Because I love you.”</p><p class="p1">Crowley looked down, blowing out a breath. “I know you love me. You said. Before.” When he looked up, his shields were down completely. “What’s the surprise, Aziraphale?”</p><p class="p1">“Do you like the plants?”</p><p class="p1">“Of course I like the—”</p><p class="p1">Before he could finish, Aziraphale threw himself into Crowley’s arms , stopping his words with a kiss. No, not just a kiss, a detonation of six thousand years of wanting and not having and thinking they could never.</p><p class="p1">Crowley stumbled back a step in shock before wrapping his arms around Aziraphale, to at least hold on if not to hold. But then he pulled away, broke the connection, pushed words through Aziraphale’s lovesick haze.</p><p class="p1">“Are you sure, angel? I don’t want… If you think you’re not…”</p><p class="p1">“I am, I am, my love, I swear it,” Aziraphale assured him, streams of humanity dripping from his chin.</p><p class="p1">Then Crowley was on him again, and it was the best not-breath that Aziraphale had ever not-breathed.</p><p class="p1">He didn’t know when they’d lost their clothing, nor where the down blanket had appeared from. Had Crowley miracled them into being? Had Aziraphale?</p><p class="p1">“Lay down,” Crowley commanded, and Aziraphale obeyed. “Stop me if this isn’t okay.”</p><p class="p1">But Aziraphale didn’t stop him, had no wish to stop him. He pulled the demon closer, letting his own body take over. There were no other living things beyond the lush vegetation enshrouding them, providing soft walls, a Garden of their very own.</p><p class="p1">Aziraphale had never had much use for sex, though he knew the basics from Corporation Training. The manual had not come close to adequately describing the depth and breadth of sensation, nor how it felt to be mated to the one he loved above all others, perhaps even above God Herself.</p><p class="p1">“Turn over, love,” Crowley whispered. And pink fluttering petals dotted his skin, a blessing from the Mediterranean breeze wafting through the tree’s branches.</p><p class="p1">Crowley’s fingers, miracled slick, breached the angel first, causing him to gasp and writhe and plead for more. His fragmented thoughts could find no purchase beyond the feeling of Crowley’s fingers thrusting and stretching him open.</p><p class="p1">“Crowley, <em>please</em>.”</p><p class="p1">And Crowley did please. Right there in their Garden, in the shade of the Judas tree. Crowley pressed the tip of his cock into Aziraphale’s entrance, causing Aziraphale to keen at the stretch, the delicious burn.</p><p class="p1">“Alright, angel?” Crowley panted.</p><p class="p1">“With you…always…” Aziraphale pressed back, impaling himself by degrees onto Crowley’s shaft with a shudder of complete submission.</p><p class="p1">Crowley groaned Aziraphale’s name, bruising Aziraphale’s hips as he pushed forward to meet him.</p><p class="p1">“Always…you…” Crowley echoed, grunting as he withdrew and then thrust into Aziraphale, over and over.</p><p class="p1">It could never be enough. Not for Aziraphale. He could never have enough of Crowley taking him, claiming him like this.</p><p class="p1">On one especially deep thrust, Crowley fumbled for Aziraphale’s erection, pumping in rhythm.</p><p class="p1">“Only…you…” he gasped as he came inside Aziraphale, filling him with compromise, with possession.</p><p class="p1">“Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned, his own orgasm cresting as Crowley continued to stroke his cock. And with one final swirl of a finger across the head, Aziraphale’s senses coalesced and burst outward in all directions, like the birth of a star system. His own seed spurted past the edge of the blanket, soaking into the fertile soil beyond.</p><p class="p1">Aziraphale breathed heavily, as if he’d been sprinting or fighting or saving the world, while Crowley gathered him up in his arms.</p><p class="p1">“Alright, angel?” He kissed the words into Aziraphale’s skin.</p><p class="p1">“More than alright, my dearest,” Aziraphale said, as he stroked the damp hair from Crowley’s brow. “I want to spend eternity with you.”</p><p class="p1">Crowley gifted him a crooked smile. “I think I can manage that.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26663161">In the garden</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/caricari/pseuds/caricari">caricari</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
</div></div></div>
</body>
</html>